Conversations
by wildroses-peonies
Summary: Loved ones from his past and present gather around Gilbert Blythe to say goodbye as he dies. I wrote this many years ago and submitted to the Avonlea Forum. When the Forum shut down, it was one of the few stories I saved. I don't remember what inspired me to write it, but I hope you are able to embrace the strangeness of it.


Joyce left Dr. Blythe's side for a moment. He was dying, but a commontion

downstairs was attracting her attention. She walked slowly, softly,  
downstairs. It was a windless day-so if she wasn't careful, she might be  
heard.

"Rilla, what is it?" Ken asked. Rilla, usually so put together, was shaken  
and unnerved. Other Blythes, Merediths, and Fords were gathering around her.

"I thought I saw Mother and Walter walking outside," Rilla was upset that  
Dad was dying-but to be this upset to imagine she saw Walter.

Nobody said anything. They had been raised to have active and fertile  
imaginations, but all of them knew where fantasy stopped and reality began.  
Even Walter, visionary poet that he was, established boundaries between the  
real and the imagined. And, yet, here was Rilla-who had never seen ghosts  
except for in her childhood fancy-stating that she had seen their long dead  
Mother and brother.

Shirley broke the silence. Joyce was wondering what he planned to say. "I  
thought I sense Mother's presence, too. But, perhaps, it is only because Dad  
is dying."

Shirley really wanted to say-yes, Mum and Walter are here. They are with  
us. But it wasn't yet the time.

Joyce went back up to Dr. Blythe. She could never think of him as Dad. She  
knew him as Doctor, be it though she tried to think of him as the loving  
father she knew he was.

Anne had passed away so many, many years ago. Gilbert wished she was with  
him, but that was impossible. Gilbert didn't rule out the possibility of  
ghosts-but he had never seen on either. He was therefore more inclined to  
be skeptical and believe that ghosts probably didn't exist. His mind was  
still so active, so alert-not ready to die, even though his body was  
prepared for death's embrace.

"Father," Joyce said hesitantly. Shirley would find grace within the chaos  
downstairs but Joyce needed to focus on Dr. Blythe-Dad.

Silence ensued. Dr. Blythe stared into the shadowy room. Well, I must be  
near death. Lucid minds don't hear voices-or (trick of the light, or lack  
of it) see a girl, a woman actually, walking to him.

"Father, it's me. Don't you recognize me?" This was so different from when  
Mum had died. Joyce didn't know who to feel sorrier for-herself or Dr.  
Blythe-Dad.

"Well, I have to check on Dad," Jem said. He, Shirley, Rilla, and Faith were  
in the kitchen. The poignant and spooky scene from just a little while ago  
was still on their minds.

"Shirley, you seem contented," Faith said as she ladled some soup into a  
bowl for Dad to eat. He was dying-but not ready to die, so he still needed  
nourishment.

"Yes, I am."

"Why?"

Shirley was rather startled to find Rilla looking at him very keen eyed and  
rather-suspicious? Shirley, so scientically inclined, had changed since  
Mother's death. Not in a bad way, but difficult to understand since Shirley  
was Walter's opposite. Walter the poet, Shirley the scientist. Walter had  
visions whereas Shirley had always insisted that the reality that you could  
see what was there was to see. Rilla was suddenly bothered by why what  
change had occurred in Shirley. And why did it matter to her so much  
tonight?

Shirley could see her frustrations. But he simply answered, "Mum and Dad  
will be reunited again."

Outside, Anne and Walter had wandered down into Rainbow Valley where they  
now sat talking.

"I've been to many places, but Rainbow Valley still fills me with the most  
contentment." As Walter spoke he could feel his spirit being permeated with  
idealism and youth that he had long ago forgotten.

Rainbow Valley, even after two World Wars, a changing economy and different  
happenings on the Island, was somehow immune to the ravages of time. It was  
as though Merlin himself had blessed it as a sacred spot of land.

Anne sighed. There were advantages to being a ghost-but she could see but  
never speak to her children. And it wasn't considered wise to materialize  
either. Anne hated being invisible though. On occassion, like tonight, she  
was able to materialize without fear of being seen. Everybody was inside  
preparing for Gil's death. So she thought nobody had seen her.

A local legend had sprung up in recent years that a young, red-haired woman  
of about marriage age could be seen dancing, laughing, and walking along the  
fabled Four Winds shore. Sometimes a blond-haired woman could be seen as  
well. The old folk claimed it was Anne Blythe and Leslie Ford-but the young  
ones knew better. (Hadn't old Dr. Blythe always told them that ghosts  
probably didn't exist? It must have something to do with age and memory, the  
wise youth of the Glen S. Mary and Four Winds Point decided.)

"Mother," Walter started and then stopped. Anne was pulled out of her  
reverie. Leslie and Owen were down by the shore, keeping vigil. Captain Jim  
was at the lighthouse. Gilbert was the last of the old stock to die, so  
everybody who had passed on before him was waiting, waiting, for when he  
passed over. Perhaps all of the Glen was active tonight.

"What Walter?" Anne asked.

"It's taking Dad such a long time to die."

"Well, you know how he is. Even when he finally retired, he never really  
gave up being a doctor. And that was only a few short years ago."

Gilbert decided not to mention to Jem and Faith that he had seen-something.  
Gilbert felt bad that he couldn't just die-that he was fascinated by the  
process of his own death. Well-at least his little clan understood.

Gilbert ate what little soup he could. For the past few years since he had  
retired, the ancient medicine man was just literally expected to drop dead  
from old, old, old age, but that never seemed to happen. Old Dr. Blythe  
became more frail and more housebound but didn't die. Maybe he wasn't dying  
right now either. After all, he had lived so long-why die now?

"Not much of an appetite tonight," Faith said softly.

"A mummy doesn't need much to live on," Gilbert said slyly.

Despite themselves, Jem and Faith couldn't help but laugh. Gilbert was  
relieved too. Even if he was going insane, he still had a sense of humor.

"Shirley, he didn't recognize me," Joyce whispered softly. She and Shirley  
were outside on the porch. Shirley was strangely moved to the tears rolling  
down Joyce's semi-transparent face.

"He-he, didn't forget you. He just is-so different-than Mum." Shirley  
wasn't exactly sure how one could comfort a ghost.

"Shirley!" Rilla startled Shirley. He hadn't heard her come outside.

"What do you mean by what you just said? Dad loved you. You know that."

Rilla was indignified. Everything this entire day seemed slightly  
off-balance. Shirley wasn't helping her in the least by responding to her  
words with an unrepressed, full-face grin.

"Come with me, Rilla."

Rilla, something more than exasperated, threw up her hands. She might as  
well follow Shirley-but goodness, what was wrong with her today? Or, more  
precisely, what was wrong with the rest of the world today?

"I remember the Christmas that Dad dressed up as Santa. Wasn't Aunt Mary  
Maria with us that year?" Walter asked, smiling as he recalled that lovely  
day so long ago.

"Yes, she was." Anne laughed. "She's probably tormenting the angels in  
heaven right now."

They were watching a sunset. Sunsets in Rainbow Valley were unlike any where  
else. The gold, pink and orange were more brilliant than that of the finest  
jewels on earth.

"Mum, Walter." Shirley's voice beckoned to them as the sun sank lower into  
the sky. Walter and Anne smiled. They always enjoyed talking to Shirley when  
they made their 'visitations.'

Something was different this time. Rilla was accompaning Shirley.

"Shirley-is your father.." Anne let her face finish her question. Curiosity  
was also entering her mind as to why Rilla was there.

Joyce hadn't followed Shirley and Rilla. She went back upstairs to Dr.  
Blythe-Dad. She brushed by Jem and Faith as they were leaving Dad's room.

"Did you feel something?" Faith asked, looking around.

"It must have been the wind," said Jem.

"But it hasn't been windy all day," Faith reminded Jem.

Jem and Faith looked at one another. No, it couldn't be. They dismissed the  
thought from their mind-or tried to. They snuck back to the door.

"Mother? Walter? Am I dreaming? Have I gone mad?" Rilla asked.

"No, you are neither. You really do see us. Your brother has seen us for  
years. Well, at least since I died." Anne smiled.

She opened her arms. Surprisingly, Rilla discovered she actually was  
embracing Anne. And then Walter.

"This has been my secret for so many years." Shirley sighed. Now, it was his  
no longer.

"So Dad is really dying tonight?" Rilla asked. She discovered that no leap  
of faith she had to take to believe, to feel, to know what she was seeing  
and hearing. The faith was already withing her. And it was somehow  
comforting to have it.

Joyce was startled. Susan and Miss Cornelia were there.

"Now, Mr. Dr. Dear, you know Joyce is not some figment of your imagination,  
so why do you cruelly treat her so?"

Gilbert had never been bewildered. Now, he was so flummoxed that he wasn't  
sure what to do.

"You know how men are, Miss Baker. Not to criticize you, Doctor. We are on  
the other side, however. You'll join us when you stop being so stubborn."

"And that you may tie to."

"So there really are ghosts?" Rilla asked as she and Shirley made their way  
back up to Ingleside. "Do the others know?"

"They'll find out in their own time."

"Father, it is me. Mother can explain." Actually Joyce could explain as she  
had done so long ago at Mum's deathbed, but somehow she couldn't bring  
herself to explain to Dad.

"Is it my time to die?" Gilbert asked.

"Yes, tonight." Then, after a silence, "if you'll only let yourself go."

Gilbert couldn't help but laugh. Yes-he had been holding out, but it was  
really was his turn to pass on.

Rilla rushed past the other Blythes, Merediths and Fords and headed  
upstairs. As she was just about to enter Dad's room, she nearly crashed into  
Faith and Jem.

"Is Father still alive? I need to speak to him." Her voice was a fuzzy  
balance between frantic and calm.

"Come in, Rilla, and bring the two eavesdroppers in with you,' Miss Cornelia  
called.

Faith, Jem, and Rilla walked in. They looked at Gilbert. They looked around  
the room-Susan, Miss Cornelia, and someone who looked familiar enough to be  
like family.

"I'm Joyce," Joyce answered to Jem, Faith, and Rilla's curious and  
fascinated stares.

So they talked and talked. Gilbert felt more at ease than he had for several  
years. But where was Anne? And Walter?

Joyce, almost as if she mind-read him, answered, "Mum is down in Rainbow  
Valley, waiting for you. Walter is there with her."

Gilbert smiled. He knew now for sure that he wasy dying. He fell silence for  
what was left of the night. Twice, Jem and Faith felt sure he had passed on,  
but then Gilbert would become restless and stir.

Finally, just before the birth of dawn, Gilbert spoke again. "Tell the young  
ones that I was wrong." But his voice was so faint that nobody could  
determine what he had said. Then, his soul left his body.

His spirit pervaded Ingleside as his body limped into a permanent sleep. But  
his soul traveled down to Rainbow Valley.

Anne smiled when she saw Gilbert. Walter, on the meanwhile, disappeared so  
Anne could be with Gilbert first.

"I've been waiting very patiently, Gil." She gave him a coy look.

"Well, now, you know how I felt waiting all those years for you to love me."  
He bounced back with an enthusiasm of voice and excitement that he hadn't  
felt in years.

Then, suddenly, Gilbert glanced back at Ingleside.

"Will I ever seem them again?"

"Yes, you will. But your journey has just begun."

THE END THE END THE END THE END THE END THE END


End file.
